Last, But Not Least
by QuizzicalQuaxo
Summary: The transition from kitten to adulthood is a difficult time, but especially so for Quaxo who is being outpaced by his peers. Tugger/Quaxo centric. Het and slash pairings to come. Rated T for future reasons.
1. Limelight and Shadows

**A/N: **I love CATS, but I have a hard time writing a story where there they are typical, ordinary...cats. I tend to see the Jellicles as special felines, the children of the Egyptian Goddess, Bast. As such, they have two forms. The four legged 'normal' cats, as well as a humanoid form that they take when no humans are around to see them.

I also see the Pollicles in much the same way, only as children of Anubis.

Kittens and pups are the usual cute little balls of fluff and fur, until they reach puberty, or the equivalent thereof.

Like teenagers the world over, this can be a difficult time of growth on their path to adulthood.

Some mature quickly, while others are....late bloomers.

This is Rum Tum Tugger and Quaxo centric. There will be het pairings as well as slash pairings.

I make no appologies.

**Disclaimer: **I own nothing, but my own imagination.

**Chapter 1: Limelight and Shadow**

"Tugger!"

The shrill screeching of the princesses made Quaxo wince as he closed his eyes and flattened his ears against the back of his head. Why did they always have to squeal like that whenever they saw the handsome young Maine Coon? Sure, The Rum Tum Tugger was suave and cool. He had panache and he had style. But one could also make the same claim of his older, more down to earth brother, Munkustrap. Whereas Tugger was flashy and full of whimsical charm, Munkustrap showed his prowess by being the strong, responsible type.

Munkustrap would make a good provider and reliable mate to some lucky queen one day.

And Tugger? He would leave a swath of broken hearts and trampled dreams in his wake.

As more high pitched screeches filled the air, Quaxo gave up all efforts at pretending to take a nap. Lifting his head he peered out of the broken window of the old car to see what was going on outside. His whiskers twitched in irritation at the scene taking place before him. It was the same old routine, over and over again.

Victoria, Jemima, Etcetera and Electra where all clustered around The Tugger, jockeying for position to see who could actually get closest to him. Curious how Tugger could seem to swagger even when standing still, and he wore that annoying smile that was full of smug amusement on his face. Behind him, his little band of followers watched closely, trying to imitate him, and perhaps hoping some of his coolness would rub off on them, through osmosis perhaps. Pouncival and Tumblebrutus where hopeless. They exaggerated expressions and movements to the point of being comical, but Plato seemed to be getting the hang of it. He even managed to catch Victoria's eye a few times. Quite a feat with Tugger hogging the attention and limelight.

Suddenly Tugger turned his head and caught sight of Quaxo watching from the car. His amused smile seemed to fade a bit and his eyes held something else as he looked Quaxo's way.

What was that?

Pity?

Quaxo felt himself bristling as his one time friend gave him that look. He didn't want pity from anyone. Especially not from that egotistical, narcissistic, puffed up young tom who thought he was all that and a side of catnip! Turning his back on the group, Quaxo leaped out of the side window of the car, and dashed off over the heaps of junk as fast as his four little legs could carry him.

Tugger missed most of what the others were saying to him, as he watched the small, black and white kitten run away. There had been a time when he and Quaxo had been the best of buddies. They had romped and played and gotten into all kinds of mischief together, just as kittens where prone to do. But that had all changed when they got older and the real 'change' itself had come about. It had been a gangly and sometimes ungainly process, getting used to the new form and learning to walk upright on two legs. He had had a few stumbles along the way, but the benefits had quickly become clear. Hands with oposable thumbs where a definite plus.

It wasn't long before the rest of his age mates caught up to him, with one notable exception.

Quaxo, the smallest and shyest one of all, remained in kitten form. Days turned into weeks and weeks into months, with still no signs of the change coming upon him. As his peers drifted away, finding new and exciting things to do, he was left more and more on his own, feeling very much the misfit and outcast. Soon he stopped even trying to interact with the others, preferring to sulk in solitude. The rift between himself and his former playmates had grown wider, until it seemed almost an insurmountable chasm.

_Everlasting Cat,_ thought Tugger sadly to himself. _Please, let __**it **__happen for him soon. Before he's lost to all of us, forever. _His musings on Quaxo and his pitiful state were rudely interrupted by Etcetera yanking a bit too enthusiastically on his tail.

"Dance for us, Tugger! Dance!", she squealed imploringly.

"Yes, dance for us!", chorused the others in anticipation.

Suddenly, the Main Coon found that he had little desire to be their source of adoration and entertainment. He forced an indulgent smile and clucked Electra under the chin to take the sting of his response away.

"Not now, pretties. Not now. I have some other things to do." With that, he extricated himself from his adoring fans, and sauntered off, leaving a troop of baffled admirers in his wake.

Pouncival was the first to break the ensuing baffled silence. "Tugger actually has something else to _**do**_?"

It left them all scratching their ears in bewildered contemplation, as they wondered what could possibly be more important than they were.

_**To be continued....?**_  
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	2. Sensical Advice

**Disclaimer: **CATS is my passion; not my property.

**Chapter Two: Sensical Advice**

Leaving the junkyard behind, Quaxo took to the outskirts of the city in search of an elder who might be able to help him in some fashion. At the railroad tracks he paused and considered turning toward the station to see if Skimbleshanks was about, but soon dismissed the idea. While the orange and brown tabby was certainly wise in the ways of the world, he could also be extremely pompous and condescending when he wished to be. The same could be said for Bustopher Jones. Another reason for dismissing those two as possible confidants was the fact that they could be very difficult to locate at any particular time. Skimbleshanks could well be on a train somewhere, and Bustopher was most likely at one of his favorite haunts, mooching a meal. Quaxo was in no mood to make the rounds of nearly every restaurant and pub in London just to find the undeniably rotund gourmand, who would most likely be too busy stuffing himself to even bother listening to the boring prattle of one lonely kitten. Even if that kitten was his nephew.

That left Quaxo with his original choice and destination. The sun was just past it's zenith in the sky, and it was a remarkably warm day, which pretty much guaranteed where his quarry would be. Loping through the tall grasses, he hurried to the small but quaint gingerbread cottage of the somewhat odd, but kindly Widow McGroo, more commonly referred to as Auntie Roo by the local children. Auntie Roo was an eccentric old bat, by anyone's standards, human or jellicle, and the children whispered among themselves that she was really a witch, who would try to lure them into her house and cook them for supper.

Silly humans. Auntie Roo was no more a wicked witch than her jellicle counterpart, Jennyanydots. Who had _never_ tried to eat a kitten. At least as far as Quaxo knew.

Creeping up onto the porch as silently as he could, Quaxo looked for, and found, the cat that he had been searching for. The large, long haired tom was napping on a cushioned swing in the shade. Quaxo hesitated, not wanting to disturb the elderly cat from his rest. As he dawdled near the top step, trying to decide if he should stay or go, the decision was taken from him, as large, deep eyes opened to look at him.

"Well now," rumbled the deep bass voice of the ancient tom as he eyed the young cat before him. "Make up your mind, lad. Are you coming or going? Since you have come such a long way, might I suggest that you stay?"

Quaxo was both embarrassed and relieved at the same time. But Old Deuteronomy did not seem displeased with his presence, and his eyes were as kindly as his deep voice was soothing.

"If you truly do not mind, sir," replied Quaxo quietly. " I would like to stay for a while, if I may."

Deuteronomy chuckled as he stirred and composed himself into a more receptive position.

"I don't mind at all," said the jellicle leader. "Quaxo, is it? To what do I owe the honor of this visit, hmmm? Something tells me that it is more than a mere social call that brings you here."

Quaxo opened his mouth to say something, and discovered that he was at a complete loss for words. What on earth had possessed him, that he would seek out the tribes patriarch to burden with his own trifling problems? Surely Old Deuteronomy had better things to do than listen to some juvenile cat wail about his woes. He should have gone to one of the other adult cats in the junkyard. But somehow he just couldn't see himself speaking to any of them about his particular troubles. At the time, Old Deuteronomy had seemed like the most practical choice, but now that he was face to face with the venerable old tom, he felt positively foolish.

"Oh", he started out, rather airily, trying to bluff his way out of the mess he had surely landed himself in. "No reason. I was just bored and thought I would go for a walk. It's a nice day, and there are butterflies in the fields to play with. Thought I might drop by for a quick visit, see if Auntie Roo might have a bit of sweet cream, or a new toy....maybe some catnip..." he trailed off, and for no better reason than to avoid meeting Deuteronomy's gaze, he stared at his one black paw, as if surprised to discover that it wasn't the same white as the other three.

"I see," was the rather arch reply. "And just how is it that a kit like you, knows of Auntie Roo and her love of strays? Does Munkustrap approve of kittens wandering off so far from home on their own?"

Quaxo winced visibly and shook his head. "He doesn't know I'm gone. None of them do." He looked up at the old tom imploringly. "I don't do it often, really I don't! But I overheard Munkustrap and Alonzo talking one day, and they were discussing the places where you could usually be found. It was important to them to know where you would be, should you ever be needed in an emergency. And...and I'm not a kitten! I'm old enough that I don't need a coddling chaperone all the time."

His eyes went wide and round as he realized how impertinent his final statement must have sounded, and he quickly lowered his head as he apologized.

"I'm sorry, Sir. I didn't mean to be disrespectful or anything."

He was surprised when the expected rebuke did not come.

"I'm sure that you didn't," sighed Deuteronomy, his voice sounding rather wistful as he regarded Quaxo solemnly. "It is sad though, to hear one so young sound so bitter. It is also obvious that you have been here more times than you are willing to admit. But today, you timed your visit to correspond with my own. Or am I mistaken?"

At Quaxo's silent, sullen nod, the old cat tapped his paw against the cushion of the swing. "Then hop up here and tell me what flea is biting at your nose...or are you too old now for a bit of paternal comforting?"

"No Sir," grinned Quaxo as he leaped onto the swing and nuzzled his head against Deuteronomy's broad chest, purring contentedly. "Never too old for that!"

"How very true," chuckled Deuteronomy with a deep purr of his own. "Now, start at the beginning, and tell me what is troubling you."

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"......and now they have all abandoned me, just because I'm different. It's not my fault, and it's all so unfair!"

Old Deuteronomy had been silent throughout the duration of Quaxo's speech, allowing the small tux to unburden himself completely. He sympathized with Quaxo's plight, but could also understand the seemingly dispassionate actions of the other young jellicles.

"Have you tried talking to them about how you feel? Let them know that it makes you unhappy to be left out?"

Quaxo wrinkled up his nose slightly. "No. But what good would it do anyway? Even if they feel sorry for me and let me tag along, it's not as if I can do the same things they do. I don't just want to be with them, I want to be_ like_ them."

Deuteronomy nuzzled the top of the young cat's head affectionately."Oh, don't worry. You will be. Just you wait and see."

"I don't want to wait." grumbled Quaxo petulantly. "I'm tired of waiting. I want to change _now_!"

"There, there," soothed Deuteronomy, trying to calm him down. "I know you do, but unfortunately there is no magic spell to make it happen instantaneously. You just have to be patient and let nature take it's course."

Quaxo's ears had perked a bit at the mention of magic spells, but then drooped again as he conceded that Old Deuteronomy was right. A frightening prospect suddenly arose in his mind.

"What if it doesn't? I mean, what if I never change? What if I'm not even a real jellicle at all? I'll be stuck like this, my whole life, as just an ordinary cat!"

"Oh hush, now!" his patriarch chided gently. "Of course you are a true jellicle. You and Victoria are litter-mates, and she has gone through the change herself. And before you think too highly of being a jellicle, let me remind you that there are some very nice 'ordinary' cats in this world. You should not look down upon them just because they are not jellicles themselves."

"I'm sorry, I didn't mean that non jellicles were bad or anything....I'm just...." Quaxo shook his head as his throat constricted with pent up frustration.

"You are upset, I know," concluded Deuteronomy for him. "And even though I can't give you what you so fervently desire, I can give you something that you need."

"What's that?" murmured Quaxo dejectedly.

"Two friendly ears to listen, and a broad shoulder to lean on."

"Thank you," sighed Quaxo.

After several minutes of silence Deuteronomy looked down at the small tux.

"Are you feeling any better?"

"A little I guess. Maybe some...."

"But not really."

"No. Not really." Quaxo sat up and cast a rather gloomy glance at the older cat. "It's not your fault. You did all that you could. More than I had any right to expect."

"Nonsense! I'm still the jellicle leader, and you are one of my charges. As capable as Munkustrap is at protecting the tribe, I suspect that there are some things he's a bit heavy pawed with. Comforting distraught kittens is probably not one of his strong suits." Deuteronomy gave a soft chuckle as he imagined Munkustrap dealing with this situation and conversation.

Quaxo took a deep breath and muttered, "I'm not a kitten..."

Deuteronomy either didn't hear him, or was doing a fine job of pretending to be temporarily deaf as he mused quietly to himself. Finally he seemed to reach a decision and turned his head to look down at Quaxo with an unreadable expression.

"Do you know what hormones are?" he asked imperiously.

Quaxo drew himself up and gave his most cleverly and well educated response.

"Huh?"

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"Hormones," reiterated Munkustrap, as if he were talking to a complete idiot. And judging by the look on The Rum Tum Tugger's face, that could very well be the case.

"Huh?"

Munkustrap's shoulders dropped as he hung his head and slowly shook it from side to side despairingly. "You really don't have a clue, do you?"

Tugger drew in a deep breath and puffed out his chest as he considered the question. After several moments of internal debate, he let out the breath and gave his brother a helpless grin.

"Nope."

Closing his eyes, Munkustrap silently reminded himself that throttling Tugger would accomplish little, other than momentary gratification. Pinching the bridge of his nose, he took a calming breath of his own and tried again.

"Everyone has hormones. And as we age, our hormones change...No!" He held up his hand to stop Tugger when it looked as if the Maine Coon was about to interrupt him with a question. "You can't see them, but just trust me on this; they are there."

Tugger snapped his mouth shut and rocked on his heels as he played with his belt, his expression clearly saying that he didn't believe a word of what Munkustrap was telling him.

"Wipe that smirk off your face," huffed Munkustrap. "If you don't believe me, then go ask Jenny or Jellylorum."

His fleeting hopes that Tugger would do just that died a dismal death as his obstinate brother shook his head and grinned, obviously taking evil delight in putting Munkustrap on the wire like this.

"Oh no! I want to hear it from you. This is a real brotherly bonding kind of discussion. I'm thoroughly enjoying it."

"Yes, I'm sure you are," was Munkustrap's sarcastic response. "Now, pay attention, because I'm only going to say this once. When your body reaches a certain age, your hormones change, and that is what causes your body to change as well. Right now, your hormones are at about the same level as a humans' when they become teenagers. Before long, your hormones will change again, and you will be a full adult. For Jellicles, this change is most obvious when we go from kittens to...." He gestured broadly at Tugger as he sought for the right words. "...to...your state..._now_."

He cringed as he mentally braced himself for Tugger to pounce all over the vagueness of that statement.  
"So, what went wrong with Quaxo's hormones?"

The question, asked with such sincerity, took Munkustrap by complete surprise.

"Huh?"

Tugger rolled his eyes as if he were the one suddenly talking to an idiot.

"Quaxo is not that much younger than I am. He's even a full minute older than Victoria. So why is he still in his kitten form? What's wrong with his hormones? Why didn't he change when Victoria did? Is he sick?"

At the thought of Quaxo being seriously ill, Tugger had frowned and begun to pace with worry. Seeing his self centered brother actually concerned for someone else softened Munkustrap and he shook off his momentary shock to offer some reassurances.

"No! No, no, no! There is nothing _wrong_ with Quaxo," Munkustrap stepped in front of Tugger and gripped his thickly maned shoulders to hold him still while he tried to explain as best he could. "There is no definitive moment for the change to happen. It's not as if one can say that on _this_ day, of _this_ month, at this _exact_ time, Quaxo's hormones will change. It doesn't happen that way for anyone. It's completely different for everyone. It's completely random."

Tugger had been staring intently into Munkustrap's eyes the entire time, anxiously gauging his words, and finally relaxing a fraction as he let it set in. Quaxo was going to be alright. He _was_ alright. At least physically. The question remaining, was how to help his friend emotionally...

His sudden epiphany caused him to groan, when he realized how simple it was.

"Ahhhh! I'm so stupid!" he moaned, clutching his head in both hands and pulling at his fur. "How could I be so dumb?"

Munkustrap wisely refrained from commenting, and simply waited to hear Tugger out.

When Tugger doubled over and laughed ruefully, he was obviously mocking himself.

"I've been going about this all wrong."

"What?" asked Munkustrap, now thoroughly confused.

Tugger straightened and tucked his thumbs into his belt as he fixed his brother with a crooked smile. He was quickly falling back into his self assured mode.

"I've been waiting for Quaxo to catch up. But since no one knows when that is going to happen..." He paused for dramatic effect. It may have been too long of a pause, for the effect was dramatic.

"What?!" Munkustrap exploded, exasperated at trying to guess what his brother was up to.

Tugger grinned widely. "Instead of waiting for Quaxo to catch up to me, I just need to take a step back, and meet him halfway."

And with that, Tugger took one step back and turned away to swagger off, leaving his older brother to flounder over what that meant.

_Sometimes_, thought Munkustrap._ I really hate him._

A slow smile moved over his face as he recalled how deeply concerned Tugger had seemed for his puberty challenged friend.

_But the rest of the time, I really love him._


	3. A Curious Turn

**Disclaimer: **Nope. Still don't own CATS.

**A/N: **Thank you for the kind reviews! I am my own beta reader, so I probably miss a lot of mistakes. If anyone notices something, please bring it to my attention, so that I can fix it. Constructive criticism is as valued as good reviews.

**Chapter Three: A Curious Turn**

It was close to dusk when Quaxo finally approached his home. He would have returned earlier, but after listening to Old Deuteronomy's rather enlightening biology lesson, he had then had to endure a lengthy lecture regarding the dangers of leaving the junkyard without permission. Quaxo had hung his head in humble contrition during the stern, but kindly admonishment. After exacting a sincere promise from Quaxo that he would never take such risks again, Deuteronomy, in turn, assured the young tux that he would not inform Munkustrap of his prior indiscretions.

It had been with a much lighter heart that Quaxo had bid the jellicle leader farewell and headed for home. But now, the closer he got to the tall fences, the more weighted down he began to feel.

_Patience he said, _thought Quaxo to himself. _Patience and time. Two things I seem to be running short of._

He slipped through a tiny crack between two loose fencing boards, and had only gone a few steps when something large, dark and hairy launched itself at him from the top of a nearby junk pile.

"BOO!"

_**"RreeeOOWwww!**_!" screeched Quaxo as he flung himself straight up, back and to the side, all in one swift, fluid motion. Landing stiff legged on all fours, he flattened his ears and hissed viciously as he eyed his attacker.

The Rum Tum Tugger was just as wide eyed as he stared back at his friend for a few speechless seconds, before suddenly collapsing with laughter. "HAAAHA! You look like you just got hit by a lightening bolt!" He crowed gleefully, while rolling with helpless mirth.

Quaxo was – literally- spitting mad as he glared at Tugger. The more the other cat laughed, the angrier he became. His fur was bristled to it's fullest, making him look nearly twice his normal size. Which was, unfortunately, still considerably smaller than the near hysterical Coon cat. That fact did not stop Quaxo from pouncing atop his prone friend.

"Stop laughing! That wasn't funny, Tugger. You nearly scared the liver out of me!" panted Quaxo, his heart rate still elevated and his fur still bushed out.

Tugger rolled over, dislodging the smaller cat into the dirt, and visible started pulling himself together.  
"I'm sorry," he said, unable to keep a completely straight face. "I didn't mean to scare you like that..."

Quaxo gave a snort of derision at the lame apology. "Nobody jumps out of nowhere yelling "Boo!" unless they _intend_ to scare someone else. You did it on purpose, and you know it."

There really was so sense in arguing with the truth, so Tugger just shrugged and grinned. "Yeah, your right, I did. But, that wasn't my original idea. It's just that when I saw you sneaking in here, looking all nervous and everything....I just couldn't help myself!" He cocked his head to the side and fixed his still fuming friend with a curious look. "What are you doing sneaking around like that, anyway? Where have you been? _I've_ been looking for you _all_ afternoon."

Somehow, in the manner of only a few sentences, Tugger had run through a gamut of emotions. From amused, to curious, and now to sounding down right put upon. It amazed Quaxo at how quickly Tugger could bring any situation immediately around to _himself_. And, since he didn't feel like having to explain his actions to Tugger, he decided that this time, he'd go along with it.

"Why?"

"Why what?"

"Why were you looking for me?" Quaxo asked with a roll of his eyes. Really, was Tugger honestly that dense, or did he just enjoying making other cats want to strangle him with his own tail?

Seemingly oblivious to Quaxo's impatience, Tugger puffed out his chest proudly, pleased with himself for some reason. Quaxo's eyes narrowed suspiciously. What pleased The Tugger, usually boded ill for someone else.

"I thought maybe we could do something, together," offered Tugger, magnimoniously. "You know, like we used to. What do you say?"

"What about your fan club and entourage?" asked Quaxo hesitantly. "Won't they be missing you?"

Tugger waved his hand dismissively. "Don't worry about them. I'm not."

Despite Tugger's cavalier attitude, Quaxo was still far from convinced. "I don't know, Tugger. I mean, it's not as if we have a lot of things in common anymore. What exactly did you have in mind?"

"How about we just start with talking and hanging out together, like we used to," suggested Tugger. "I miss our talks."

Quaxo had briefly turned his head away to watch the sun as it descended below the horizon, but Tugger's words had brought his attention back around with a start. He gave another start as he saw his old friend sitting there quietly in the fading light, looking surprising peaceful and placid. Gone was the long legged, swaggering jellicle teenager, who had become such a stranger to Quaxo these past few months. In his place was the same, familiar furry young cat that Quaxo had grown up with.

He would have been lieing if he hadn't admitted to himself that he was having very mixed feelings over the abrupt reversal. On the one paw, he was deeply happy to see the old Tugger back. But on the other, he felt faintly annoyed. It felt almost as if Tugger was being condescending toward him, by reverting backward. As far as Quaxo had observed, none of the jellicles chose to be in their cat forms while within the confines of the junkyard, unless they absolutely had to. Quaxo had no choice in the matter, but Tugger did. And he well knew that Tugger rarely did _anything_ that wasn't ultimately beneficial to himself.

"Why are you doing this?" asked Quaxo.

"I told you," said Tugger, standing up and walking over to Quaxo, where he butted his head affectionately against the smaller tux, nearly knocking him off his feet. "I miss you. And you have been deliberately avoiding me. Every time I see you, you glare at me and then run away. I figured you were angry at me because..."

"Because your growing up, and I'm not," finished Quaxo softly, butting his own head against the larger male. "I was angry. I guess I still am, but I can't help it. I know it's not your fault. But do you have any idea how hard it is, to be the only kit left? Even my own sister...," he closed his eyes and leaned heavily against the Maine Coon. "I hate this, Tugger. I hate being angry all the time, but most of all I just hate being so alone!"

A large, heavy paw came down over his shoulders, and Quaxo felt himself being pushed to the ground. He might have protested, but before he could, he felt the rough caress of a tongue stroking between his ears accompanied by a warm rumbling purr. It almost pained him to admit how much he was enjoying this moment of closeness. He didn't know how long it would last, so he decided to just savor it for all it was worth.

"I can't say that I know exactly how you are feeling," said Tugger. "Because I'm not in your fur. But if I were in your place, I imagine I'd be feeling pretty unhappy and sorry for myself."

"I'm not feeling sorry for myself!" protested Quaxo indignantly. But when he looked up into Tugger's penetrating stare, he was forced to recant in the face of the truth. "Alright. So maybe I've been feeling a _little_ sorry for myself. Can you really blame me?"

Tugger chuckled softly. "Not much. Then again, you are partly at fault for your own isolation. No, don't start getting huffy all of a sudden. Just think about it. We never actively pushed you away, did we?"

"Not with words, no. But I just can't keep up with you guys anymore. You all run around upright, dancing and playing kick ball and such. Sometimes I've seen you throwing a ball back and forth in the air. I can't do any of those things, even though I really want to." Quaxo sighed and dropped his head onto his paws. "Most days, I'm bored numb, with nothing to do, and no-one to do nothing with."

Tugger's mouth twitched a little. "Strangely, that made perfect sense. However, before you start being too envious, let me tell you that not every day is a ball of yarn for me, either."

Quaxo snorted in disbelief. "Sure, it must be absolutely horrible to be the center of attention, with everyone fawning all over you. You must hate it with a passion. Poor Tugger, how awful to be so idolized and adored!"

"Your mocking me," accused Tugger, giving the tux a playful bite on the nose.

Quaxo laughed and rubbed one paw against his tickling nose. "You can't convince me that you are not lapping up all that attention like a dish of sweet cream."

"True," Tugger conceded after only a moment's thought. "But I don't enjoy it every moment of every day. And the queens are the absolute worst! Sometimes I feel like a piece of fish."

"And your saying that you don't encourage them at all?"

"Of course I encourage them. It would be cruel of me not to."

"I don't get it. What's the appeal in it anyway? Their squeals make my ears hurt."

Tugger didn't quite know how to explain to Quaxo the attraction that queens now held for him. He knew the younger cat wouldn't understand. At least not yet.

He was saved from having to make any further comment on the subject of queens, by the sudden sound of his name being called.

"Tugger!"

"Etcetera," he winced, knowing that particular high pitched voice anywhere.

"Tugger!"

"And Electra," he groaned.

Quaxo cocked his head as he looked at Tugger. "I suppose it was inevitable. You should probably go to them before they start getting upset."

He was surprised when Tugger make a low growl and laid his ears back flat. "What do I look like? A dog? I don't go running to _anyone. _They can call my name all night, and it won't make a lick of difference. Besides, I already have all the company I need or want, right here."

"Really? You mean that?" Quaxo had been certain that Tugger would want to leave him in favor of the queens. He was extremely happy to discover that he was mistaken. In fact, considering the way Tugger was behaving right now, he might have misjudged his friend. Maybe Tugger wasn't as totally self absorbed and shallow as he had previously thought. As much as that thought cheered him, he still knew there was a problem looming over them. "As happy as that makes me, I'm afraid that I have to point out that they are going to be here too, any moment now."

The calls were drawing closer, and now both Pouncival and Tumblebrutus could be heard calling for Tugger as well.

"Guess there is no help for it," said Tugger, getting to his feet and stretching. At Quaxo's dismayed look, he winked a golden eye at his friend. "Last one to the car has to groom the other!" he challenged as he bolted away.

It took a moment for Quaxo to catch on, and by the time he did, Tugger had disappeared around an empty oil drum. "Hey! No fair!" he yelled, springing up and after the tricky Maine Coon.

They were both long gone by the time that Tugger's posse arrived in that spot, and though they continued to search for him through much of the night, they never once guessed at where he was actually hiding.

Or why.


	4. Great Leaps and Small Steps

**Disclaimer: **C&P from previous chapters**.**

**A/N: **Firstly, I wish to thank everyone who has reviewed and/or added this story to their alerts. I am pleased and humbled that so many apparently enjoy reading this tale, almost as much as I enjoy writing it.

Secondly, I can't believe how hard it was to write this chapter. I knew what I wanted it to be about, but there where a thousand different ways it could have gone. I actually wrote three different drafts of this chapter, and none of them were remotely the same, in regard to content. Finally, this is the one that I chose to present. I hope that I made the right decision.

**Chapter Four: Great Leaps and Small Steps**

Tumblebrutus and Pouncival were entertaining themselves, by trying to see who could do the highest jumps or the most flips, when The Rum Tum Tugger came across them, in one of the many small clearing of the junkyard.

"Hello Tugger," called Tumble after a rather spectacular display that combined numerous flips, somersaults and springy jumps. "Want to join us?"

"Nah, thanks anyway," replied the Maine Coon. "I was just heading over to see Quaxo. Haven't seen him in a couple days, and thought I would check in, just to see what he's been up to."

"Good luck, then."

Tugger frowned at Pouncival.

"What's that supposed to mean?"

"I just meant good luck finding him. He's not home." shrugged Pouncival, before attempting to do a handstand.

"How do you know he's not home?"

Tumble turned from watching his brother to look at Tugger again. "'Cause we stopped by the car early this morning, to see if he wanted to go mouse hunting for breakfast, with us. But he wasn't there."

Tugger was glad that Tumblebrutus and Pouncival were taking an interest in Quaxo, and his company as well. The boisterous brothers had come across Tugger and Quaxo one afternoon, while they were batting an old plastic table tennis ball back and forth. Instead of the ridicule that Tugger had half expected, they had quite cheerfully joined in the play. On reflection, Tugger supposed he shouldn't have been so surprised. Tumble and Pounce where, in many ways, more kittenish than Quaxo. And whatever their idol Tugger was doing, they would be more than happy to copy. Their interest in Quaxo's company had apparently survived longer than the duration of a simple ball game, if they were actively seeking the tux out, of their own volition.

"Well, maybe he's back, by now," offered Tugger. "I'll go see for myself."

"Ok," waved Tumble, wincing slightly as Pounce lost his balance and barely missed falling on his face. "Hey!"

Tugger stopped and half turned to look back.

"If you find Quaxo, maybe the two of you could come back this way, and we can all play another game together?" Both brother wore matching expressions of hopeful anticipation on their faces.

"Yeah, maybe we'll do that," Tugger replied amiably. "We'll see."

As the other two went back to their acrobatics, Tugger headed on his way to the nearly gutted old car. He could tell, before he even reached it, that it was currently abandoned.

He felt slightly vexed that Quaxo wasn't there waiting for him. It didn't matter that they hadn't actually made any specific plans for the day; he had just come to expect that his small friend would always be available, whenever Tugger came around.

Even knowing that the car was empty, Tugger still stuck his head through the broken out window and looked inside. His nose twitched as he took in the scents. Quaxo's scent was strong, but other scents were noticeable as well. Tumblebrutus and Pouncival's unique scents were still fairly fresh, as they had apparently been the last ones to pass by. Or were they? Tugger frowned as he took another, deeper whiff of the car. This time there was no mistaking it. There was another scent present. And it was not one that he recognized.

His eyes narrowed as his upper lip pulled back from his sharp teeth, instinctively reacting to the strange, new smell. Why had Tumblebrutus and Pouncival not mentioned this? Were they so careless and immature, that they didn't understand the potential dangers or ramifications of having a trespasser in their territory?

As he continued to inspect the car, Tugger began to grow more uneasy by the moment. Where was Quaxo? Had this strange cat come into their yard, and invaded Quaxo's sanctuary? Had it frightened Quaxo away, and given chase to him? The thought of the little black and white cat hiding somewhere, scared and possibly injured...or worse...made Tugger's fur stand on end. He considered going to find Munkustrap or Alonzo, but it was a large junkyard, and they might be anywhere. Time was already wasting, and Quaxo might be in dire need of help, immediately.

His mind made up, Tugger began to follow the scent away from the car, moving as fast he could, without losing the trail.

There were so many twists and turns among the junk-pile alleys that Tugger got turned around at least twice. He wished he had Skimbleshanks to help him. That cat had a nose on him almost as keen as a pollicle's. But in a short time, Tugger managed to pick up the trail again, and continued to follow it into one of the more remote area's of the yard. Ducking along through a large pipeline section of ventilation duct, he emerged into another rubbish lined alley and froze in his tracks.

There, only a few yards away, a small jellicle was sprawled on the ground in an awkward heap.

It was, undoubtedly, Quaxo.

Tugger knew it was him, the moment he had spied the black and white fur. But the shock of the sight still held him motionless. As he stared in silence, Quaxo stirred, and while the Maine Coon watched, he pushed himself up off the ground, and reached out to grab onto the crossbar of an old brass headboard nearby. He was obviously straining as he slowly pulled himself upward, until finally he was standing on shaky legs.

Tugger held his breath as he anxiously watched Quaxo test his balance, and then try to take a step forward, without letting go of the bed rail. He managed to make at least five wobbly steps, but on the sixth one, he stumbled and tottered.

Seeing his friend about to fall to the ground again broke Tugger's paralysis, and he sprinted forward to steady Quaxo, before he could hit the dirt.

"Careful!" cautioned Tugger, unnecessarily, as he caught Quaxo just under his flailing arms. The strange scent he had been following was distinctly stronger now, and he knew now that it was Quaxo's own, uniquely changed pheromones, that he had been chasing.

Because he had caught Quaxo from behind, he found himself in the unusual position of looking into the startled white face staring back at him, from an upside down view. Even from that angle, he decided that it was a rather nice looking face, none the less.

Quaxo appeared struck dumb by the appearance of Tugger, and completely oblivious to the fact that he was essentially dangling, dead weight, in the other's arms, with his legs splayed out in front of him in a most ungainly fashion.

"Up, or down?" asked Tugger.

Quaxo seemed to shake free of his stupor as he turned his head to look at his uncooperative legs. "Down, please," he sighed, sounding completely mortified.

Tugger complied, lowering his friend until he was seated safely on the ground. Carefully, Quaxo drew his legs up close, then simply sat there in silence, avoiding Tugger's gaze. His face a picture of bafflement, the older tom hunkered down beside the younger, confounded by the incomprehensible sullenness Quaxo was displaying.

"Hey. Talk to me. What's wrong? This is what you've been waiting for, isn't it? I thought you would be elated!"

"I am."

"Yeah, you look positively thrilled," confirmed Tugger sarcastically. "When did it happen?"

"Last night. I kind of freaked at first," Quaxo admitted quietly, still refusing to look at Tugger. "Then I got really excited when I realized what was happening."

"So, what changed between then an now? Besides your appearance, that is," Tugger quirked a smile, hoping to interject a tiny bit of levity into the conversation.

"Pretty much what you just saw," sighed Quaxo bitterly. "I was so excited I immediately wanted to run and show someone...anyone! But, I didn't get to _run_ anywhere."

"Ah," intoned the Maine Coon, knowingly. _Been there, done that. _He thought ruefully_. _"So after you went 'splat', you dragged yourself all the way out here to mope?"

"No!" Quaxo snapped querulously. "I came out here to practice, so that no one would see me stumbling around, and make fun of me. _Thanks_, for not noticing."

"Oh, come on!" chided Tugger, starting to lose his patience. "You think you are the only one who hasn't fallen flat on their arse when they first tried to walk upright? Every body does at first."

"But Vickie...," started Quaxo in protest.

"Smacked _her_ perfect little pink nose, right in the dirt," affirmed Tugger. "And believe me, no one was laughing."

Quaxo turned his head slightly toward Tugger, still looking a bit unconvinced. "What did you do?"

"Me?" asked Tugger, widening his eyes with exaggerated innocence. "Why I, of course, was the perfect exception to the rule."

"Of course you were," agreed Quaxo mockingly, then shook his head with a wry laugh. "I'm sorry. I just feel so clumsy and awkward. Why would the everlasting cat do this to us? First, we're born blind and helpless. Then, just when we think we're starting to get the hang of things , BAM! We're turned into near cripples. What's the point?"

Tugger shrugged. "Who knows? I mean, seriously, _who_ knows? I doubt even Old Deuteronomy does. It just _is_. And it always will be." He suddenly clapped his hands together, deciding that having a heavy philosophical discussion was far from being the most pressing matter of the moment. "OK! That's enough of that. Lets see if we can't get you up, and on your feet."

His overtly enthusiastic proposition was met with a groan of dismay from Quaxo, who remained sitting on the ground. "Oh, please. I'm tired Tugger. I've been at this all morning. Can't I just sit here and rest for a little while longer?"

"Alright," said Tugger, plopping down next to the smaller tom and stretching out his much longer legs. "But just for a little while. After you're rested, I'll teach you how to walk, just like Munkustrap taught me."

"_Munkustrap_ taught _you_?" Quaxo's surprise was almost comical. "You're pulling my tail, aren't you? There is _no way_ that Munkustrap taught you to walk like..." he held his arms out at full length and waggled his hands from side to side in a pantomime of Tugger's hips. "...that!"

With a snort, Tugger smacked Quaxo's hands aside. "Munkustrap just taught me the basics. I perfected the rest on my own."

"Well, lets just stick to the basics, then. There is no way I want to strut around, wiggling my rear at everything."

"It's _not_ a wiggle, it's a swivel."

"If you say so."

Now that Quaxo was no longer sulking and avoiding his eyes, Tugger allowed himself to really study his friend more closely. Quaxo was still remarkably small, but then again, maybe it just seemed that way, since Tugger himself was taller than any of the other jellicles. On further reflection, he thought that Quaxo was probably about the same size as his sister, Victoria. He had a similar lean, compact build, right down to the slim, elegant legs. Even his arms and hands were as well shaped and slender as Vickie's. It was Quaxo's face that had truly taken Tugger by surprise. His dark eyes were enormous in the small white triangle of his face. They were set widely spaced above a pert little nose, and unusually sensual, full lips. It was only the strong line of his jaw that gave his narrow chin a decidedly stubborn aspect, saving him from appearing too feminine or pretty. In short, Quaxo looked adorable, and Tugger was certain that the queens were going to be all over him.

"Why are you smiling like that?" asked the Quaxo, narrowing his eyes slightly.

"No reason," responded Tugger with a chuckle. "But I think the sooner you learn how to walk, and then, how to _run_, the better off you will be."

"Oh? And why is that?"

"You'll find out, soon enough. But hopefully, not too soon."

Quaxo rolled his eyes at his smirking friend.

"Could you be any more cryptic?"

"Without a doubt," drawled Tugger as he jumped to his feet, with a grace and ease that earned him an envious glare from Quaxo.

"Show off."

Tugger just grinned widely at the compliment.

Shaking his head in resignation, Quaxo finally turned himself over, and crawled back to the bed railing. Using the frame as leverage, he proceeded to laboriously scramble into an upright position.

Something told him that it was going to be a very long, and torturous, day.

_**TBC**_

_(For anyone who might think that Quaxo or Tugger's reactions were less than anticipated; just bear in mind, that often what one wishes for, is not always quite so wonderful, once the wish comes true.)_


	5. Balancing Act

**Disclaimer: **If I actually owned CATS, it would _still_ be on Broadway.

**Chapter Five: Balancing Act**

"Are you _sure_ we're doing this right?" asked Quaxo, with more than a mere hint of distrust in his voice.

"I'm positive," Tugger assured him, though his words were somewhat muffled, due to the fact that his head was currently wedged between Quaxo's thighs. "Now, open up your knees, and spread your legs wider. That's it...a little wider...OK, not _that_ wide!" His hands tightened their grip against the slim white calves on either side of his shoulders.

Quaxo flexed his fingers, tightening them around Tugger's waist.

"This feels really awkward," he complained to Tugger's tail, which was barely an inch away from his nose. "Maybe we should try another position?"

"Come on, you almost had it the last time," insisted Tugger, still kneeling between Quaxo's legs as he shifted his grip from the smaller jellicle's ankles, up to his hips. "Third times the charm. Ready?"

There was a brief moment of hesitation, before Quaxo nodded his head and braced himself. "Ready."

Putting his trust in the Maine Coon, he released his grip and straightened his posture, while holding his arms out to his sides, to maintain his equilibrium. He made a few minor adjustments to his stance, then glanced down toward the top of Tugger's tawny head. "OK, I think you can let go now."

One golden eye peered up at him, as Tugger sat back on his heels, his head tilted to the side. "You sure?"

"Yes, I'm sure."

"Positive?"

"Positive."

"Absolutely?"

"Would you just do it!"

Tugger snatched his hands away so fast, Quaxo almost toppled over. He windmilled his arms and rocked back and forth precariously, nearly boxing Tugger's ears in the process, but the other cat had wisely ducked out of range of his flailing limbs, just in time. It looked like it might be a touch and go effort, at first, but in the end he managed to keep his footing.

"Yes!" yelled Tugger, punching the air with his fist. "You did it!"

"We did it," corrected Quaxo with a beaming smile.

He knew his pose was less than poised, but he didn't care. He was finally standing upright, on his own two feet. His joy was short lived, however, when Tugger rubbed his hands together and stood up beside him.

"Now, comes the hard part."

xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

It was only past noon, when Tugger decided that it was time to call it quits. Not because Quaxo was doing poorly, but because the small tux was progressing along quite well. Once he was no longer toddling about, like Bustopher Jones on a bender, he began – literally – to make great strides.

"Remind me again," drawled Tugger, casually leaning against a dented hubcap, as he watched Quaxo catfoot along the narrow rail atop the brass bed frame. "Which one of us is a show-off?"

The bold tux merely cast him an impetuous grin over one shoulder. "I can't believe how easy it is!" enthused Quaxo as he neared the end of the rail, with only a couple of minute wobbles.

"So says the guy who was eating gravel, less than an hour ago," Tugger teased good naturedly.

"Eat!" cried Quaxo, suddenly leaping off of the rail to land in a crouch a few feet away from Tugger, impressing the Maine Coon once more. "I'm starving. Can we stop for lunch?"

"Let me guess; you forgot breakfast?"

At the black and white's sheepish smile and nod, Tugger laughed quietly and pushed off from the junkpile. "OK, let's go hunt up a few morsels. Then we can go and show you off to everyone."

The smile on Quaxo's face faded to a look of uncertainty. "I'm not sure I'm ready for that yet..." he began, but Tugger cut him off with a wave of his hand.

"You're as ready as you'll ever be," he proclaimed. "You've got your balance now, and you can walk in a straight line. What are you worried about?"

Quaxo had sunk down to his hands and knees, sitting on his heels, as he looked increasingly apprehensive. "My legs aren't all that strong yet. I can only stand and walk upright for short periods of time before they start to get tired and ache. I don't want to make a fool of myself by falling down in front of anyone."

He was surprised by Tugger's loud laugh. "Oh, please! No one is going to expect you to walk around on your hind legs all the time. At least not this early on."

"You do," pressed Quaxo obstinately. "Munkustrap does. So does Jenny, Jellylorum, Skimbleshanks..."

Tugger cut him off again, this time sounding more than a little impatient. "That's because they're all adults. It takes time and practice, believe me! If you spent a little more time with your age mates, instead of hiding all the time, then you would know that it's a process that everyone goes through."

It was on the tip of Quaxo's tongue to make an argument out of the fact that Tugger himself was not technically an adult yet either, but found that he was too hungry and tired to quarrel with his friend.

"Fine," he intoned dully, feeling defeated. "But can we get something to eat first?"

"Sure."

When Tugger didn't immediately move, it took a moment for Quaxo to realize that he was waiting for the smaller jellicle to precede him. Closing the short distance between them, Quaxo rubbed his head against Tugger's thigh, then smiled up at him. "Thank you."

"For what?"

"For being my friend."

The sincere solemnity of the declaration seemed to catch Tugger off guard. He looked at Quaxo's upturned face, apparently at a loss for words for some unknown reason. Finally, his expression turned somewhat sardonic, though his eyes remained vaguely discomfited. "Yeah, well...." he shrugged, breaking eye contact as he fluffing his mane and shifted his weight into a cocky pose. When he didn't elaborate any further, Quaxo merely gave him a bemused look before crawling passed him to begin the hunt.

Once Quaxo's back was to him, Tugger gave himself a mental shake. He was completely befuddled over what had just happened. He _knew_ that he and Quaxo were friends. Why had it felt so strange to actually hear Quaxo say it outloud, with such affection? And why had he been so disquieted by the tux's deliberate rub up against him? Especially considering that only a few hours ago they had been in very close proximity to one another. He remembered helping Quaxo to find his balance, and couldn't recall a moment when he had felt the least bit disturbed by the necessary physical touches. Then he again recalled, how Quaxo had nuzzled against his leg, his face turned up toward Tugger's with the most beguiling smile on his lips and his eyes full of pure, innocent adoration....

He felt that same anxious tightening in his chest once more, accompanied by the feelings of uncertainty.

"Tugger?"

He nearly jumped as he heard his name, and looked to see that Quaxo had stopped and was looking back at him expectantly. "Is anything wrong?" inquired the tux, curiously.

"No, nothing's wrong," assured Tugger, with a dazzling smile as he swaggered over to join his friend.

_Nothing wrong at all, _he firmly told himself as he followed Quaxo deeper into the junkyard. _He loves me. I love him. We're friends. There is nothing wrong with that. He's like a little brother to me. It's all perfectly natural and quite platonic..._

_So why couldn't I tell him that? I should have said something more poignant, when he thanked me for being his friend. As if I needed thanks for...for that. I'm just not good with voicing 'feelings'. I hope that I didn't upset him by not really saying anything. OK, OK! I'll tell him that I return the sentiment..._

_Later._

**...TBC...**


End file.
